


Leaving Home

by bananasandroses (achuislemochroi)



Series: Whofic [86]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 4X13 (Journey's End), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Tenth Doctor Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 08:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11824548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achuislemochroi/pseuds/bananasandroses
Summary: There’s nothing more you want than proof of the answer to a question that’s bugged you since you last saw this beach – what was he going tosay, when he disappeared?  But you don’t ask that, because youknow(and always have known) what his answer would have been.  So you ask another, pointed, question instead.





	Leaving Home

**Author's Note:**

> Fix-it fic. Of a sort, that is, because there is no way everyone can leave this scenario as winners. Implied Metacrisis Doctor/Rose Tyler, although I'm never sure if those feelings are his own or a hangover from the Doctor.

Here you are again. You’re back on the beach, at Dårlig Ulv Stranden. You’d died here once, for all intents and purposes. And you think the Doctor hadn’t believed you when you’d sworn to him you’d never leave. The fact he’d been right, for different reasons than he’d perhaps expected, is something you have always chosen to ignore.

No, he can’t have believed you. Because what other reason could there be for him to bring you _here_?

As you turn this conundrum over in your mind, the two Doctors babble on about how the Doctor is the Doctor is the Doctor. And, yes, that's as confusing as it sounds. A sudden suspicion flowers at the back of your brain. What is the Doctor (the real one, _your_ one) trying to do? And when the other one speaks next, you think you have a bloody good idea.

‘I’m part human. Specifically, the ageing part. I’ll grow old and never regenerate. I’ve only the one life, Rose Tyler.’

He breaks off and looks at you in the way he always has when he needs you to remember something later. ‘I could spend it with you. If you want.’

And that gives you the clue you need to figure out his plan; you’ve always been smarter than people expect you to be. And he seems to be trying to leave you behind. Again.

_Oh, no you don’t. You’re not doing that again!_

You try to stay calm. Trying to do this, and force your brain to _think_ at the same time, turns out to be far more difficult than you thought. You’re even more impressed at how the Doctor seems to manage it without effort. But this is your one chance, you reckon, and so you take your best shot at it.

‘You’ll grow … grow old at the same time as me?’ Although your voice wavers it’s free of emotion and you’re pleased with that.

_Oh you are a devious one, Doctor. I must have been with you too long, because I can tell what you’re up to. But it won’t_ work.

‘Together,’ he confirms. And you put your hand against his chest. It appears to be the truth, for you can feel only one heartbeat.

You stand there for a few silent seconds, thinking hard. The TARDIS makes a strange grinding sound. And the Doctor is now talking about how he has to go. Apparently this reality you’re in is sealing itself off for ever. He and Donna walk away, leaving you and the Metacrisis together. You call after him, and they stop. You say to him how it’s not right. You say how the product of the Metacrisis is, for want of a better way to phrase things, not the Doctor. And thus, by extension, can’t be _him_. And your Doctor then further complicates matters by saying he _is_.

_It’s time for this to stop. Nobody’s fooling anyone, and I want to go home. I could_ murder _a cup of tea, right now._

‘All right. Both of you answer me this.’ You watch the two of them move to stand either side of you. There’s nothing more you want than the answer to the question that’s remained constant since you last saw this beach. _What was he going to say when he disappeared?_ But you don’t ask him that because you _know_ (and always have known) what his answer would have been. So you ask another, pointed, question instead.

‘You died for me, once. Back on the Game Station, with the Daleks. You _died_ for me.’

You look to your right and see a half-amused, half-guilty expression cross his face. _Thought you could fool me, eh, Doctor?_

‘Would you do it again?’

You’re looking your Doctor straight in the eyes when you ask, and for once he meets them with his own. His answer, when it comes, is in the same tone he’d used when he called you ‘Defender of the Earth’, way back when.

‘Every time.’

Nodding, but saying nothing, you turn to your left and the other Doctor.

‘And you, Doctor?’

Shoving his hands into the pockets of that unfortunate blue suit, he shrugs his shoulders. He shuffles his feet, nervous, and throws the man on your right a pointed look that speaks _volumes_. When he speaks, his tone is throaty and you can hear a hint in it of something approaching panic.

‘Yes. Yes, of course.’

_Make-your-mind-up time, Tyler. Not that it’s a competition._

You can’t ask someone with only one life to throw it away for you. So you step towards the man on your left, take his hand, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say. ‘I’m so sorry.’

You lower your eyes, as you turn away from him, unwilling to look at the shocked hurt in his expression as you give him up. _It’s better this way. For both of us._ You turn to your right, again, and see him smiling at you. On his face, the love he’ll never admit to shines through his somewhat stunned expression.

‘I can’t get _anything_ past you, can I, Rose?’

‘Does it need saying?’ you say, turning his own words against him. Tone and dancing eyes neutralise any hurt.

A smothered choking noise is his only reply. He holds his hand out, wiggling his fingers in encouragement. The memory of his doing the same in Sycorax dust, at the Powell Estate what seems a lifetime ago, echoes in your mind. You reach out to take it, to slide your fingers so they interlock with his. You ache to feel the physical connection between you again.

He uses your interlinked hands to pull you in close beside him and leans to whisper in your ear.

‘Are you sure about this? There are no second chances this time. This reality’s sealing itself off. For ever.’

You remember what he said the last time you had a similar decision to make. _You’ll never see her again; your own mother._ You tense for a moment and then relax. You knew this was coming, and you’re prepared.

‘You said that before,’ you whisper back. ‘I remember. You said it the last time we were on this beach. And here we are again. But I want to come with you. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.’

‘You’ll be stuck there, away from your family, for ever.’

‘I know. But I'll have _you_.’

The two of you are at the TARDIS doors now. You turn, holding fast to the Doctor's hand (as if you think he'd disappear if you let go). And you take one last look at everything you're leaving. Then you look up at the Doctor and smile.

‘Being stuck with you? That’s not so bad.’

‘Yeah?’ He steps into the TARDIS and holds the door open for you.

‘Yes,’ you say, in a tone of utter certainty, as you follow him inside.


End file.
